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only you	By : MadameMika Category: G through L > Ice Age Views: 478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Ice Age. The series was created by Blue Sky, and now it belongs to Disney. It's a shame, but oh well - probably for the best I have no ownership.

Chapter List
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Gutt awoke in his cave to the sound of squawking. More specifically, the kind of squawks a bird makes when it's being slaughtered by a larger bird — a carnivorous sea bird. And he recognized the sound of a particular type of carnivorous bird, the unmistakable screeches of a petrel— even if this one was more of a mongrel and not a full-blood— as it acquired its prey. Especially this one.
So that blue-footed oaf lived, Gutt thought to himself, realizing what this meant. Perhaps the others… but his mind didn’t dwell on his crew for long. If they lived, well, they were lucky bastards. If only the bird and the idiotic seal lived, fine. But at the end of the day, they weren’t a top priority or concern, not in the way his former first mate had been. Oh sure, he had rescued the lot of misfits, and they had some value, but he never forged a bond with them in the way he had with Shira. He never could care for them in the way he had with her, which honestly, was something he considered a grave error on his end now.
Pirates were supposed to be ruthless. To prioritize themselves. Yes, some level of trust was necessary — a crew was needed, after all, if one wanted to survive out on the sea. Yet deep down, it was a world where anybody could turn on one another when an opportunity struck, so Gutt never tried to get attached to any of his crew members…except her.
But you knew her much longer, he argued silently, trying to justify himself somehow. To justify his attachment to that snow-pelted saber. You and her used to be a duo, trying to survive. Have you forgotten your beginnings?
The beginning… ah, yes, the start to his tale — a rough one, it had been. His life back with his troop wasn’t ideal, to say the least. His parents weren’t fit for raising a child, that much was evident from day one when little Pasquale— his former name, ironically sounding so nice and peaceful— was often left in the nursery alone… only tended to when it came to feeding, and even then he would conclude in his later years that they only kept him fed because it’d look bad on their end if their offspring died of starvation. Then when he reached well into childhood, his father took up training him differently than other apes would do with their boys, by inflicting harsh blows upon him that made the young ape breathless— not in the good sense, either— each time the training concluded. He swore his father was trying to kill him, what, with all the violent hits.
And his mother didn’t care. Didn’t say a word, only looked disappointed when he’d arrive in their tree. As if he was a burden, as if he was the problem, not them. So eventually, reaching his teenage years, young Pasquale decided he had enough and left in the middle of the a rainy night. If anybody cared enough to ask, he’d say, “We were separated.” It wasn’t really a lie now, was it? Of course not, it was just that he instigated the separation. But no one knew, save for her.
He met Shira when he was seventeen. She was fifteen and alone, just like him. They set forth together, realizing they had something in common: they were outcasts. Misfits cast away from their packs or troops — didn’t matter; all they had were each other, so they went out on the seas. There, they forged their path.
First couple of months, it was rough. They had to fight off enemies together, had to do what they could to find food — they tried to survive the best they could. They worked together to endure the change, to adjust to the sea... and eventually, the two became accustomed to the waters. Along the way came other stray mammals they helped rescue, and soon a crew was formed. Their birth families discarded them, so they created their own- messed up but still better than nothing- family together. And together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Many mammals lay at their mercy, and they collected a large bounty.
But deep down, it wasn’t just the thrills of the pirate life Gutt wanted. Soon, as he and his first mate grew into their adult years, he began to want something else. Noticing how Shira had grown up so beautiful, so elegant despite being a part of such a scruffy bunch, and how her skills and techniques had improved… something stirred within Gutt. He didn’t know when it began, all he knew was that he figured out what it was one day, when —
“I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with never a fear of drowning… and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would be my mate…”
It was the middle of the summer, the air warm and muggy. When she sang, to seemingly soothe her worries, one mammal lent his ear to listen. The harmony of her melody was like heaven to him. When she danced, someone dared to come closer, to move with her steps and match her movements.
She cast a short look at this intruder. A hopeful grin. Flatter white teeth winking at her. His fur dark grey, silver and white in contrast to her white, black-striped fur. Umber eyes filled with light and joy and awe. He was taller than her, his fur more unkempt, and overall the spitting image of an ape. All limbs, short and long, held together in exaggerated. His arms and legs spread out, moving along to the ‘notes’ of her song.
Amused, she stepped up the pace of her words and her feet. Watched with an unfamiliar pleasure as he matched her effortlessly, his grin widening. Then he started to sing too, and his voice was in perfect harmony. He didn’t know the song, not really. He sang nonsense syllables, almost but not quite forming words. And she was too delighted to care.
“No scorching sun nor freezing cold will stop me… on my journey… if you will promise me your heart… and love me…”
“And love me for eternity…”
With that flourish, they both stopped. Silence fell, so heavy it seemed to stop her breath. To freeze her in place. His eyes pinned her to the spot, not leaving hers for a second, seeming to pierce right into her soul.
He lowered his arms first, rubbing one with the other. “I…”
Shira tilted her head, her brow crinkling ever so slightly. “Is everything alright, Gutt?”
“I just didn’t know,” Gutt blurted out in reply, almost immediately regretting that he hadn’t simply said that everything was fine. “I didn’t know that you …”
“What?” In an instant Shira’s eyes, which had looked so soft and so lively when she’d been singing, turned as hard as the ice on the lake. “That I what, Gutt?”
Wielding his trusty smile, Gutt gave a shrug. “I didn’t know that you…that you could sing.”
Shira’s expression softened. “I don’t do it often,” she said quietly. “My madre would tell me it’s not befitting a huntress.” Her paws shifted.
“Your mother’s head is stuck up her arse. You have a beautiful voice,” he told her, the light dancing in his eyes in line with the beating of his heart.
“You’re not bad yourself.” She shifted, her knees trembling.
“W-would you like to dance again?” he asked. Had he stuttered?
She smiled, an endearing smile, and nodded. “I would love to.”
Though Gutt’s eyes grew wide and his smile shy, his hands never hesitated and his feet never stopped. The music flowed around them, pulling them closer to each other. Their feet moved automatically. She sang weird sounds that were almost, but not quite, words.
He danced, she sang and they joined each other in a perfect rhythm.
That was when Gutt had realized he was in love with Shira. A captain had fallen for his first mate. A turn of events that seemed promising, so beautiful — but he had clearly been too idealistic, for when he tried to take that chance… he was met with rejection. She turned him down, said it wouldn’t work — “We’re predator and prey. We can coexist, but nothing more.” And he was left to sit there, wondering why.
Gutt didn’t understand. It wasn’t as if they were too different… they were more similar than any of the other crew members had been. They got along the most. They had each other’s backs. They went through battles, slaughtering, looting—everything—together and yet she refused him. Why? He practically saved her from a miserable life in her old pack, stuck with her mother and those that looked down upon her for being pale-furred. He gave her so much, and she wouldn’t give him all he asked for: her loyalty and love.
She betrayed him. She left him for that mammoth’s friend, the saber. And now he was alone, battered and bruised. His dignity, his bounty, his ship, his first mate—everything was gone. He had nothing.
Captain Gutt had lost.
His fists balled up as he rested on the walls of the cave. “Damn you to hell,” he cursed her beneath his breath. “You traitorous, lying, vile predator…” He wanted to shout. To find her, drag her here and teach her a lesson in the worst kind of way, but immediately as soon as he had those thoughts, he felt bile arise in him.
Gutt felt ashamed, despite knowing it was something befitting for the traitor. Somehow you still have control over me, he thought, his teeth gritting. That damn tigress—he was still feeling something for her besides anger, frustration and betrayal, and he didn’t understand why. She didn’t deserve the mercy he’d shown her. She didn’t deserve to ride on the same ship, to be spared of—to even—oh, why did this have to be so complicated?
“Why couldn’t you stay by my side?” he wondered, one thought he had since she had pushed those rocks. Since she turned her back on him. “I did my end…why couldn’t you do yours?” But of course, he knew the answer – her heart was never his. She had never been his. And now, she was someone else’s.
…well, fine. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need the white saber and her sweet little lies, her beautiful voice and eyes and words, her caresses or her advice or—no, he didn’t need anything from her. He would be better off without her. Thriving, living, moving on…
Gutt didn’t need Shira. Not in the sense he had before. All he needed now was to avenge himself. To salvage his wounded prideful self. To find her, and that herd if he could, and—well, the rest of the plan would form eventually… all he knew was that she would regret turning on him. That was a promise.
No matter how hard his instincts tried to insist this was not how it should be, no matter how much he had mourned in the early hours of the morning when his dreams taunted him with a future that would never be, Gutt shut it all out.
Because, after all, he never was one to listen to anything that went against the current that pooled inside him.
The new land was calm, warm salt breezes drifting over the sand dunes that bordered the ocean. Shira sat, staring across at the vast expanse of blue.
She remembered the first time she walked across a beach, when she had been sixteen years of age, too young and still wounded by her discovery of the world’s cruelty. The sand between her paws had been a relaxation, something to ease her mind from the wild waves and all the chaos thrown at her every turn. Along the shore once walked other mammals, Gutt and the ragtag bunch that tagged along, with Silas always flying ahead—almost out of sight—while Flynn would jump into the shallow edges of the water. Everyone else would trudge through sand, searching for shells and other debris the ocean deposited on the shores of the almost-empty land after tremendous storms, the likes of which had kept them cooped up in their ice caves on the boat the night prior.
Now, that was merely a fond memory. A look back on how it seemed ideal, before it went to hell in the blink of an eye. Shira sighed, and continued to search the horizon. She wasn’t sure what she sought, only that her mind had convinced itself that something was coming, whether good or ill she could not say. She stood with a wobble, feeling a heavy weight placed on her—the burden of her past never leaving, so it seemed. Her earrings—damn, why did she let Gutt put those on her? Another trinket of the past—now felt like they were slicing into her ear again, and she swatted at them before glancing once more at the sea.
Off the distance, a small dot had appeared on the horizon, but peer at it though she might, the saber couldn’t tell what it was. She shrugged, and made her way to the woods, the dot quickly leaving her thoughts as she observed gulls fly above, seemingly frantic.
The dot grew larger as it drifted closer to the island.
The first time she'd been given the earrings, Shira almost smiled. It was near perfect irony. Blue was a symbol of the sea and the color of freedom, trust, loyalty, stability and faith. Green symbolized balance, prosperity and rebirth. The shock of it all against the grey thunderclouds above made her feel like a prized jewel. The color of freedom was also a color of sorrow—an experience of the loss she endured years prior as a teenager. Though she was a member of the ‘perfect’ ideal of a hunter, she had a sorrowful lineage. It did not mean that she was discarded by her family like Gutt, but rather that she was a white saber; that her existence was seen as a pariah amongst the darker furred felines that roamed the lands she once resided, the lands that used to be her birthright. But the lack of color in her fur meant that she and her lineage were scorned, looked down upon and seen as disposable.
She had learned that the hard way, the day her father died during a hunt. Ambushed by a pack of— she tried not to think, not to feel…
“Well, what do you think?” Gutt asked, a slight grin adorning his face. His teeth had grown to be a sight that wouldn't be desirable to a female ape, but to the tigress, it was welcome. Not only that, but even charming.
“They'll do,” was her answer as she glanced down at the ice, trying to take in the sight. A good cover for the holes implanted in her ears, no thanks to that damned fox and— don't think, don't dwell… “Where did you find them though?”
“Stashed away in Captain Vitaly's cave,” explained Gutt, without a care. “Turns out, the mutt's got an eye for these things…”
“I would've never thought,” Shira muttered. After all, wolves—well, her thoughts of the creatures were more than a little unsavory. But it was justified, she told herself, for it was an ambush by wolves that brought her father to his demise. Which was why the last siege of a ship felt so… satisfying…
The closest she had ever come to avenging him. But she tried to push that thought aside, for the more she thought of it, the more she felt, and the more she felt—
“Thank you, Gutt.” She brushed herself against him, her muzzle rubbing into his neck fur. He felt rough but warm, nice and soothing. She could never not be used to him. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course…anything for you,” had been his reply.
But really, how far would he go to hold up to those words?
Walking was a struggle for Gutt. His wounded leg dragged behind, and the rest of his body didn’t fare well either. He had to search for herbs, and could only find one to apply to the wound on his head. Ignoring the pain was something he became accustomed to though, having done it many times during and after battles. Only difference now was that he hadn’t been as lucky of a bastard as he had been prior.
The fowl that resided on the island flew above in frenzy, and Gutt knew why. A bigger predatory laridae was here now and with that came the end of their reign as the main meat-eating avian. Another flying parasite came in, took their place—but all the ape thought of was, what use does he have to me now? He didn’t need a lookout. Didn’t need someone to hold weapons, didn’t need a flag, didn’t need—he had no use for anybody now, really. He could go on without them, carry out his…plans, or whatever he had in mind for her… and he would have his victory. Reclaim his honor, or whatever was left of it at least.
None of those little sorry excuses for shark bait weevils were around, and neither were any other mammals. From this area, it seemed almost empty. It didn’t feel right. Up Gutt’s spine crawled a strange feeling that perhaps, something was amiss—that maybe someone else was near.
If it’s her, the mammoth, or the saber… the gigantopithecus’ claws unsheathed. He would be ready for them—for him, or her; whatever it was, he would have this reward. A compensation for all the hell he went through.
His victory.
As Gutt kept moving, he heard a rustle. His fur pricked. Heart pounded. He huffed in, and out. Something rustled up his spine. His head ached, as did everything else.
Then she emerged, and everything froze inside him in an icy rush of recognition.
The traitor was here.
The forest ground was warm beneath Shira’s feet as she wandered about. Firm as well, more steady than the ice on the old ship had been. A frenzy of gulls swooped overhead, seemingly searching for somewhere to go—to hide from a greater lari. But what kind of lari was it? She didn’t know. Her thoughts wandered about as she did, trivialities coming and going as the sun’s rays broke through some of the tree’s coverings. She suddenly remembered the dot on the horizon: could it have been a…?
No, no, that was impossible. It couldn’t be… but then what was it? The distance made it so difficult to take a gander. She tried to push away this musing, continuing to walk throughout the forest. So large and vast, it seemed…
Farther along, Shira noticed red spots in the grassy parts. A vile stench accompanied the wet spots. Her muzzle crinkled and she nearly gagged, unable to stomach it. She didn’t know why—perhaps, some strange empathy. Yeah, that was it – just her empathy. Walked up the path, trying to ignore the stench that continued to flood her nostrils, the red patches that stained the grass. She closed her eyes and tried to take her mind elsewhere. Don’t think about it… don’t look… don’t—!
She walked through the bushes and with a heave, her eyes opened momentarily. And soon as they opened, she saw him.
Is that…it can’t be!
“Gutt…?”
His pale expression was exactly the one Shira knew was plastered across her own face. Her body trembled, her eyes unable to leave the one who had rescued her from a life of anguish, and soon caused her anguish just days ago. How did he survive, though? She thought… everyone had thought…
It felt like time stood still. Gutt’s lips curled into a snarl, a vile sound emerging from his throat. His body was so wounded, so battered and—was one of his legs limp? His head had a large wound and—oh god, he looked like he had fought through hell and back… she tried to take in his features, not noticing his body trembling with rage.
She didn’t realize him getting into a fighting stance, not until she felt his body slam into hers, knocking her over onto the ground, her eyes finally snapping to see him on top of her, pinning her down. His hands were on her neck and she was forced to look into his umber eyes, the eyes of her former captain.
Gutt snarled as he bashed Shira’s head against the ground when she attempted to get up, when she tried to throw him off. “Didn’t think I’d find you, did you, traitorous bitch?”
The gigantopithecus began throttling the smilodon, thrashing her with such a determined look of sheer rage that the feline knew she had only moments to stop him before her life was cut short. Shira let out a choked cry and, in her best effort, brought her claws to Gutt’s backside, causing him to let out a cry of pain and let go. She took the opportunity to push him off and pounce on him, now pinning him down. Though she was a bit smaller than him, she was still a carnivore and in the end, a carnivore’s instinct won over an herbivore’s, no matter how vicious and hell-bent on vengeance.
The tigress’ claws threatened to dig into the ape’s chest, her legs pressing down on his. She saw anger like no other, not even like the one she had seen days ago, present in those eyes. He clawed at her sides, tried to bite, kick and screech, causing them both to struggle as they gave natural cries of rage, pain, hurt and hatred.
“You bitch!” he shouted at her, his claws raking across her sides, making her roar out in pain. He didn’t cut deep enough to leave too much damage, perhaps to save that for later or whatever he had been planning for her, but enough to still feel as though she had been stabbed with an icicle. “I helped you, I was there for you—we were a team! And you spat on that, running off with a bunch of mammals that didn’t do anything for you—”
“You left me to drown, bastard!” she screamed at him. “You went off, so caught up in your little revenge scheme, leaving me to die!” Memories of struggling to stay afloat in the ocean’s harsh waves, water filling her lungs flooded back. How she called for his name, and how she had gotten no response, ironically saved by their foes… “I swore myself to you, and you—you betrayed me! You went back on your word!”
In an instant, full of grief, she slammed her paw down on his temple, with a blow so hard that his body hit the ground with a thud. Abruptly, Gutt twitched before lying still – and Shira knew that the feud, though over for the moment, wasn’t far from through.
Bruises were forming around the tigress’ neck, promising to take a while to heal, just as her new cuts. Shira felt barely conscious, only enough to drag herself back to her own cave, but stopped herself mid-step as she glanced back at Gutt’s unconscious form.
What are you doing? Leave him, a voice in her head ordered. Doesn’t matter how he got back. Take what’s left of this cabrón and throw him back where he came from, and let hell swallow him. Maybe this time, they won’t send him back.
“I can’t do that,” she found herself objecting aloud, horrified at the fact she was defending Gutt. But she knew what she said was true, gruesome though the prospect of not getting him as far away as possible was.
Why not? the venom in the voice frightened Shira, justified as though this part of her mind was.
“Because…that would make me just as bad as he is…”
The truth hung in the air, stale and bitter, but not full. That wasn’t just it, no – there was more. Such as how she still felt obligated, still felt attached to him, still felt the need to help him, to do what her old pack couldn’t do for her father… to be there for him in a way no one else had been for her, except…
“This is loco,” Shira muttered as she made her decision, ‘grabbing’ him by his scruff—careful with her teeth, not to pierce his already damaged skin—and starting to drag him along the ground towards her cave. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. On your own head, be it. And with that, the harsh side of her vanished, leaving her alone to do the deed.
It took the white-coated saber hours, but she finally managed to take him to her cave where she dropped him above a soft spot. He looked so… she couldn’t find the right words, but it seemed he was unhinged, without rest, without ease—the opposite of peaceful.
Shira finally collapsed, eyes looking out to the light outside the cave as it grew dim. The cruelty of life never ceased to amaze her. The bleak truth was that no matter where she went, no matter how well she could try to do or adapt, the ugly reality of her misfortune followed behind with soft footsteps, waiting to spring and strangle her again. Tears poured into the ground as she sobbed, lying next to someone she once considered a friend.
Someone she once thought she loved.
She didn’t know how long she cried, just until she had no more tears to sob out, voice going hoarse and mouth dry, her body turning limp. Her neck was sore from being strangled, making it hard to take a deep breath in and out. Her eyes finally drifted shut as she let exhaustion take over, and soon she lay still as Gutt.
The first time he strangled someone, it was in defense during battle. The first time she gave someone such a blow to the head, it was a similar situation, but she hadn’t known them outside a name. The second time, they strangle and swat at each other. Strong blows, with little to no mercy, but with a little restraint, because that’s what you do with traitors you love.
Because love is a battle, and like most battles, there’s always pain guaranteed.
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Spanish word translations:
Madre – “mother”; the context alluded to here and the more that’ll be given later makes this a rather, err, colder version of the endearing “mama”.
Cabrón – “bastard”
Loco – “crazy”
Definition of laridae (lari): a predatory sea bird. Usually, a gull (not to be interchangeable with seagulls), skua or a petrel. The “mongrel” comment, however, is due to the fact Silas is not fully petrel, as cued by the red head feathers and blue feet, thus not pure laridae.
I promise that this is as ugly as the violence between them will get. From here on out, there’ll none of that. After all, I want to show them eventually growing into a healthy (of sorts) relationship – and Gutt redeeming himself, so of course, not much else of this…though the violence will remain for other characters. You’ll see. But in this stage, it’s to be expected such a reunion would get ugly real quick.
Next up, a hopefully better ‘reunion’ and uh, some of the other characters showing up… I won’t give names now, but definitely includes cues of the dot. ;) and more mammals of other species, yay!
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